


The Son of a Mercenary-Turned-Rancher: Part V

by RieWiggles



Series: Stories of the Wastelanders: MacCready Arc [6]
Category: Fallout - Fandom, Fallout 4, Red Dead, Red Dead Redemption
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-01-25 20:59:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 18,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12541084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RieWiggles/pseuds/RieWiggles
Summary: After Quinn's permanent head injury in 2296, she and MacCready gave up the life as mercenaries and started to breed horses back into existence. In the meantime, Piper and Moira write a biography about MacCready's life, which becomes a hit across the Wasteland. A mysterious man who is interested in MacCready steps into his life. Meanwhile, adult Duncan decides to become a Cartographer and leaves on his own. He meets a young woman named Amber, who poses as a prostitute in an attempt to hire mercenaries to help defend her family farm.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just clearing this up: Ray looks just like Jeffrey Dean Morgan and talks like him.

**Author's Note: I’m trying to fix things up to make this shit better, but in the meantime, my damn urge to keep typing up new shit is still in play. I would say I’m still rusty. I’m heckin’ rusty.**

* * *

 

**2296**

* * *

 

A knock was at the door.

“Hey, Quinnie!”

The ginger looked straight into the hazel eyes of a popular reporter known as Piper Wright.

“Mind if I come in?”

Quinn reluctantly unlocked all the locks that held the door, before allowing the brunette to make her way into their home. It was the first time that Piper had set foot into their new house.

“So, I guess you’re doing that one-on-one interview, right?”

Piper scoffed.

“Oh, Quinn.”

The ginger moved her way to grab a whiskey. Her head was covered in a beanie, most likely to hide the stitches. It had been two months since her injury, and luckily they had dissolved by then. On the downside, her head was shaved in that area, which wasn’t very aesthetically pleasing to passerby. Piper looked to the younger woman. In one hand was the whiskey she had just pulled from, the other was a lit joint. Piper knew that Quinn was an avid user of Mutkush, although after her injury, she assumed that the dependency was at maximum.

“How is your head?”

“It’s been better. It’s been worse.”

“How is MacCready handling it?”

“At this rate I’m surprised he hasn’t put a helmet on me.”

The reporter sighed. Just then, the rancher/former mercenary made his way in through the back deck.

“Speak of the devil…”

MacCready was dirty from head to toe. If it wasn’t dirt on his skin, it was manure on his clothes, with the additional aesthetics of straw that stuck out.

“How’s the horse farm?”

“Let’s just say I enjoy showers now.”

MacCready took off the pooped boots. Quinn groaned.

“Outside! The boots stay outside!”

“Yes, your highness!”

The sarcastic rancher moved the boots to the back deck. When he closed the door, he looked to his wife. He noticed the joint in her right hand.

He quoted his fingers when he said, “highness” again.

“I’ll get all this crap off me before we begin, Piper.”

With that, the rancher moved out of the kitchen area and into their bedroom.

Quinn moved on, pouring the whiskey into each glass. She handed one to Piper.

“You know,” Quinn began.

“I’m really not comfortable with you doing this.”

Piper swallowed her first sip. It burned in her throat.

“It’ll be fine, Quinnie.”

“No, it won’t.”

Piper seemed very curious as to why the ginger felt that way. She sighed.

“Imagine my husband killing someone for a client. You know, like how Kellogg killed Nate’s wife. Imagine the spouse, or parent, or perhaps even child of the one killed ends up collecting their gear, and gets names on the killers. The client spills out, ‘MacCready,’ and the person seeking revenge finds the book. You know what happens after.”

Piper looked down.

“I understand you’re scared about this.”

“I’m more scared over the fact that once this book gets out, everyone will know where we live.”

“I’m telling you, Quinn, it won’t be like that.”

“Then what will it be like?”

Piper paused. She definitely saw the frustration in the ginger’s hazel eyes. It was a good thing to be afraid, especially for the life that the duo had just given up. Quinn knew how it was out there, killing people they were given orders to kill, people they were paid to protect, groups they were paid to fight with. It wasn’t an easy life for either of them, and the threat of retaliation was a thought that always ate at the back of their minds.

“Quinn, the life that the two of you live right now, you’re retired. Granted, I saw how it is out there with the horses. It’s not easy. But it’s honest. I’m sure people will see that when they read about it.”

Granted, Quinn wasn’t convinced. As a matter of fact, it seemed like she couldn’t be convinced. Piper understood her. She just didn’t believe that someone would go after them.

Besides, with the two former mercenaries being Nate’s trusted allies, surely no one would dare touch them.

MacCready made it downstairs. Quinn finished the amount she purposely poured with the whiskey. She left the bottle on the counter. When the ginger made it out on the deck, she put her feet into her husband’s boots, before heading out to work.

“Take a seat,” the rancher insisted, as he grabbed his glass. He pulled Mutkush out of his pocket before lighting it. His clothing was cleaner than what he had on before, but the postwar washing machines didn’t work like they did before the bombs fell.

“Let’s get to work then!” the reporter said excitedly as she made a seat on the couch before her interviewee.

* * *

 

**2302, 2303**

* * *

 

There was a knock on the door.

Instead of the ginger who opened it years before, it was a teenage boy. A pair of smiling eyes and lips met outside the peephole.

He unhinged all the locks before allowing the two women to walk in.

MacCready made his inside from the deck.

“Duncan, would you mind tending to Juno?”

The teenager made his way outside. He waved to the two women.

MacCready knew inside what the announcement was. The last meet was only two months prior. Everything went suddenly quiet, which suited the rancher just fine.

“We finished the book and published it a week ago. We found a printing press back in one of the old Boston Bugle buildings and brought it to Diamond City.”

“And?”

“And it’s a hit! We have a free copy for you!”

Moira handed the book to MacCready. He looked down at it. There was no cover. It just listed on the title page:

_Blood Redemption: The Life of a Mercenary-Turned-Rancher._

He sat down in his chair to repeat the title.

“What kind of title is this?”

“Well, we wanted to tie it in with your ancestor. He was a big author from before, and his book was a hit as well. We might remaster and print it too if you don’t mind lending us the book.” Moira seemed excited with her tone.

MacCready rubbed his tired eyes.

“There better not be anything about Karlie being a Vault Dweller in here.”

“We left it out.”

“And the Brothel?”

“We figured it would spread awareness to the people about other ones around the Wasteland.”

“What about my location?”

“We didn’t specify where. We just said you settled near the ocean.”

MacCready got up. He placed the book on the counter. He then approached Piper.

“Here is your first royalty.”

She gave the rancher a large bag. It sounded like clapping caps.

“Appreciate it.”

Moira could tell by the graying hair that the age was catching up to him. His face looked the same, no doubt, but his hair was a very ashen brown. They haven’t seen each other in years. MacCready avoided the fact that Moira was aged drastically. Her reddish hair was almost ash as well. Wrinkles covered her eyes as she smiled. Her lips were cracked. She was pale.

Another thing that kept the man younger was his facial hair. To Piper, he looked the same as he did years before, when she first interviewed him. He had a light mustache, although the hair down to the bottom of his chin was shaved. Instead, he had a goatee, in addition with stubble growing around his jawline.

The man donned a buttoned shirt complete with a bandana. Moira didn’t think he was using it to follow the Western getup, which made a return as a trend in the Wasteland. No, he needed the bandana for living the life as a horse breeder. His buttoned shirt was halfway tucked into his jeans, which were a faded blue, but also completed his look with pinstripes. His cowboy boots were definitely for work, not for show.

Moira came up before wrapping her arms around the rancher. He returned the hug.

“You were like a little brother to me,” she said softly.

“You and James just disappeared from me. Look at you now.”

He seemed a bit perplexed over her emotional outburst, but tried to ignore it. He slowly nodded.

“Will you go back to the Capital Wasteland?”

“Possibly. Megaton needs me there.”

With a smile, she planted a kiss to the rancher’s cheek.

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: I’m trying to fix things up to make this shit better, but in the meantime, my damn urge to keep typing up new shit is still in play. I would say I’m still rusty. I’m heckin’ rusty.**

* * *

 

**2296**

* * *

 

“Curie, could we talk to you?”

“What’s on your mind, Darling?”

MacCready walked into her study. It was newly built, but only with the post-war resources like every other building that was made in the Wasteland. He made a seat in the chair across from her desk.

“What are you researching?”

“Oh, I’m glad you asked! I’ve been studying the effects of synth aging! It’s not perfect yet, but I will get there.”

“Hm.”

The rancher paced his torso for a minute. He attempted to find the right words to his request.

“Is something bothering you, Monsieur MacCready?”

Her expression was nothing less than saddened. Curie was a very emotional synth. She expressed her greatest concerns without question.

He tried to find the right words.

“Look, uh, Karlie and I have been talking about something for a very long time. We just want to know if you can help us.”

“What is it about, Monsieur?”

He paused again. He was quickly becoming uncomfortable.

“Karlie and I have been trying to… have another kid. She tells me that she can’t physically have kids, and nonetheless we still try. Would you be able to help us?”

Curie instantly got excited in the middle of his statement.

“Oh, a Baby! Have you done all the required-“

“Yes, yes we have!” He was even more uncomfortable.

“I haven’t finished-“  
“We’ve done everything.”

The synth sat back and had a huge brainstorm. Suddenly, a thought came to her mind.

“I have an idea.”

MacCready leaned forward.

“I know it may seem unethical, but I might be able to create synthetic wombs.”

Curie then got to sketching.

“I could extract a piece of Quinn’s DNA and form an egg out of it. With your sperm I could fertilize the egg, and if I’m able to obtain information or test an already pregnant woman, I might be able to create a womb.

“If Julia is able to allow it, can we use her?”

“Unfortunately she’s too far in to really study the process.”

* * *

 

A few months later, the duo made entrance into Curie’s study.

“Monsieur MacCready! Madame! It’s a pleasure!”

“Have you found someone to study?”

“I have!”

With an excited squeal, Curie introduced Quinn and MacCready to a beautiful woman. She had dark skin, braided, black hair, and gorgeous brown eyes.

“Jiana Finch, pleasure to meet you!”

“Karlie and Robert MacCready,” the rancher replied. Quinn nudged his side.

“Quinn and MacCready, ma’am,” she corrected.

For the whole process of the pregnancy, Curie took constant DNA samples to study the change in Jiana’s body. She paid close attention to the size of the embryo. For the whole nine months, Curie spent with little sleep, closely collecting her results of her important study.

After Jiana gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, Curie analyzed her research. It was 2297. With the chemical makeup in mind, she sent the Minutemen scribes to procure all the materials in need. She constructed a blueprint, which was soon followed by Sturges.

All the way into the new century, Curie created new embryos with Quinn’s DNA and MacCready’s sperm, but unfortunately, each one died. However, over time, one survived longer than the other. In the meantime, she attempted synthetic organics. By 2301, Curie’s first synthetic baby was born. She instantly fell in love with him, naming him Casian.

Over time, Casian was slowly growing. It was easier for Curie to continue her research. Each fetus survived longer than the other, but none reached full term.

* * *

 

**2300**

* * *

 

“Today, we’re going to hunt some Stag.”

Duncan looked to his father with a perplexed expression. He was used to the farming.

He understood why they were out there. He just didn’t feel that it was best to leave Quinn behind.

With the biography in the process of being written, and the sudden collapse of caps, the family was struggling. They owed a debt to the Longs for food. Their contribution to Nate was coming to a halt. They ran out of money to purchase Mutkush to the caravans, to which Quinn desperately needed for her migraines. The least they could do was hunt to eat.

Duncan stayed on the horse. His gun was rested upon the saddle.

“Don’t get off Yugo,” MacCready whispered. They heard a crunch from the horizon. They slowly pressed on, until they spotted the Radstag.

MacCready got off the horse. He urged Duncan to stay on. The boy took the bridle of Juno before MacCready took off. The rancher made sure to stay within the boy’s sights in order to show him how to hunt. MacCready aimed towards the radiated deer. With a shot, it was down.

MacCready instantly got up before kicking Juno. The horses approached the corpse. MacCready grabbed rope from the back of his pants, before tying each limb together.

“Help me get it up on Juno’s back!”

Duncan helped his father pull the corpse and pick it up. They placed it on the back of the horse.

“Now it’s your turn,” MacCready said, in between huffs.

They patiently waited for another stag. They suddenly spotted what looked like a buck.

“This one’s yours. I’m not going to interfere it in any way.”

“Right.”

Duncan jumped off his horse. He slowly snuck up on it, with his anxiety eating away into his stomach. He shakily pulled his gun up.

“It’s just killing, Duncan,” he whispered to himself.

He held his breath in to steady his aim. He pulled the trigger.

The Stag was shot in the leg. It attempted to run away, but it couldn’t move far.

Duncan then reloaded his rifle, before sneaking up to a tree. He aimed again. It was harder to shoot the Radstag, but he managed to kill it the second time.

Both father and son approached the corpse. The same routine happened: Duncan hogtied the creature as they pulled it up to Juno. On the ride back, MacCready rode on the back of Duncan’s horse.

“Not bad, Kiddo.”

“I couldn’t do one shot, though,” replied Duncan.

“You will in due time. Have you tried the exercises I asked you to do?”

“I keep trying, Dad, but I don’t know. I can’t do Deadeye unless I have people coming after me.”

“It’s a survival tactic.”

The boy led Juno through the gates of Sanctuary. The horse whinnied, before moving towards the stable. After the father got off the horse, Duncan followed.

“Alright, next,” MacCready began as he pulled the buck off the back of Juno.

“You’re going to skin it.”

Duncan never skinned an animal before. He was nervous. He was afraid that he wouldn’t be able to stomach it.

“It’s disgusting. Just think that you’re a doctor.”

“Nice way of comforting me, Dad,” Duncan replied sarcastically.

They carried the first stag to a butchering table just outside the fencing. MacCready first demonstrated. He then gave the knife to his kid.

“Dad, I don’t know…”

The look of impatience on his father didn’t help the anxiety. Duncan felt soft. He shakily held the knife up with one hand. The blood trickled to his hands.

“Don’t forget, Raiders do worse.”

“I know, Dad.”

Duncan stabbed the fur. He proceeded to follow his father’s directions. When they finished skinning the creature, they cut the meat, before throwing it into a bucket.

“Take the meat to the freezer,” MacCready ordered.

The teenager pulled the bucket into the house. He asked his mother to open the freezer door.

“Let me guess: your Dad wants me to cook tonight, right?”

“I know you hate cooking, Mom.”

“I don’t have patience, kiddo.”

“But that’s what makes it good. You’re a good cook Mom.”

Duncan finished storing the food. Quinn closed the freezer door.

“How many Stag did you get?”

“Two. A buck and doe.”

“Good. We’ll be full for awhile.”

Quinn crossed her arms. Duncan turned around to go back out.

“Hey, Duncan, do me a favor.”

He turned around.

“Tell your Dad that we sold a horse today for four thousand caps.”

He nodded before running back out. He approached his father as the rancher proceeded to pull out the guts from the doe. He handed a piece of meat to Duncan.

“You took a bit of time in there,” the Dad said in slight irritation.

“Mom told me that she sold a horse today.”

“How much?”

“Four thousand caps.”

“Enough to last us a few months and pay off the debt we owe.” He wasn’t fond of the fact that they had only a certain amount since there was no stable pay. On the other hand, at least the debts were cleared.

* * *

 

In the early morning, Duncan had an idea. He was going to practice DeadEye.

He packed all the ammunition he could carry and a few Stimpacks before unlocking the back door. He snuck out on Juno. When he opened the gate, the boy took off into the woods.

“Robbie, the back door is opened,” Quinn said, concerned. With a small pause, MacCready panicked, running up into the loft.

Duncan was gone.

“God dammit! He left!”

MacCready quickly grabbed his gear. With his gun strapped to his back, he took out the back door, getting onto Splat.

“Take my Pip-Boy!” Quinn yelled as she ran out. He strapped the device onto his left arm before riding out into the sunrise.

As MacCready tracked the location of his son, he suddenly noticed blood on a rock. He examined it from the horse, before spotting another splatter just feet away. He began to follow a trail of blood, until he held Splat back. A Yao Guai was feasting on Juno.

He suddenly pulled his gun from his back. Splat panicked, sending a whinny.

The large bear spotted MacCready.

It began to roar. He noticed that the bear had already had bullet wounds into its face. He figured if he shot right where one of the bullets existed, it would lodge into its brain, killing it.

MacCready aimed towards the creature that ran towards him. He concentrated, allowing time to slow down. The world felt like it was turning yellow. After holding his breath, MacCready pulled the trigger. It did exactly as planned: it lodged into his brain.

“Duncan!” MacCready yelled. He began to search for his son inside the cave. There were bodies, but none that resembled Duncan’s clothing.

“Dad…” MacCready heard from behind him.

Duncan came out from a burrow. His leg was broken.

“Here, take the Stimpack!” the rancher called, stabbing it into his son’s thigh. His leg suddenly felt better.

“Get on Splat,” the father ordered. His voice was soft but also irritated. Duncan complied. The rancher kicked, allowing the horse to take off.

Halfway back was an awkward silence.

“Why did you take off like that?”

Duncan didn’t answer.

“Duncan!”

“I figured I would be able to activate my DeadEye if my life was in danger!”

“And that didn’t happen, did it?”

“… No, it didn’t.”

MacCready sighed.

“You could’ve been killed.”

“I know Dad. I know what you’re going to say next. I wasn’t thinking. I know I wasn’t.”

“What do you think your Mom is going to say?”

“I don’t know, Dad. She’ll probably tear me a new one.”

MacCready sighed. He paused for a few seconds.

“Then we lie to her.”

“You think she’ll believe us?”

“She knows how we are, but she might. We tell her you were attacked by Raiders, and one of them scratched you with a Deathclaw gauntlet.”

“Are you absolutely sure she’ll believe us?”

MacCready noticed the walls of Sanctuary a horizon away. He nodded.

“Under one condition: You don’t disappear again, and you let me help you.”

The boy seemed upset, but agreed.

As they neared the walls, MacCready then added,

“Also, you have to rake poop up for a month.”

* * *

  **2303**

* * *

 

Quinn heard a knock on the door.

“Mrs. MacCready, Miss Curie would like to speak to you and your husband!”

The study was a wreck by the time Quinn and MacCready made it. However, on her desk, was an extremely tired Curie. In her arms was a baby.

“I would have contacted you sooner, but it happened so fast…”

She could barely keep her eyes open.

Quinn instantly came up, inspecting the infant. It opened its eyes. Its bright blue eyes met her mother’s.

“It’s a girl,” Curie mumbled.

Quinn picked the baby up from the synth’s arms. A smile stretched from ear-to-ear. MacCready looked down at the newborn. Her eyes looked to her father’s. She reached out to him.

“Looks like she’ll be Daddy’s girl,” Quinn whispered, teary-eyed.

MacCready held the infant. Her lips dropped. Just suddenly, she began to close her eyes. The child’s face had slight freckles, in addition to bright red hair.

“I’m sticking with Charlie, Robbie,” noted Quinn.

He smiled at the little girl who slept in his arms.

“Charlie Rose.”

“Rose? Why Rose?”

He looked to her, his eyes glossy.

“She’s my Rosebud.”

* * *

* * *

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If Ray had an actor, it would be Jeffrey Dean Morgan. He looks just like JD, and his character is a mixture of John Winchester and Negan.

**Author's Note: I’m trying to fix things up to make this shit better, but in the meantime, my damn urge to keep typing up new shit is still in play. I would say I’m still rusty. I’m heckin’ rusty.**

* * *

 

**2291**

* * *

 

The hot sun beat on Ray like he was in an oven. The man felt so close. He was anticipating a meeting of some sorts.

After approaching the run-down Beecher’s Hope, Ray held his gun up. He approached the barn. It was empty. When he made his way towards the house, the man saw fresh tire tracks trickling towards the Western exit.

“Sum’bitch!” he yelled. His voice was harsh and old. His accent was Southern.

Ray moved into the house shortly after. He knew the tracks would have died off say they met road. Making a home inside the cabin, he repaired every inch possible. In fact, he restored it. Upon fixing the bed, he had a place to sleep. With nothing living near, it was the safest place, savor the hot days and cold nights.

Ray used the corral area to plant. Upon walking further South, towards Mexico, he spotted a small Ghost Town. It was an old Victorian town. It was small, restored, but it also looked like it served as an exhibit.

“Blackwater,” he said to himself.

One day, Ray left West Elizabeth. He made his way to the first occupied town: Armadillo. It kept its old roots, but was restored prewar. Once the bombs fell, the town still never died.

Ray walked into the bar. He kept his tongue over the teeth on his right side. He greeted the bartender with the tip of his hat. Upon that, Ray made some new friends, and formed an alliance. From then on, Blackwater was just a Blueprint.

* * *

 

**2303**

* * *

 

“Hey, Ray!” One of his buddies called, as he won himself a game of Poker. Collecting the caps, the man laughed a dark, hearty roar. He sucked his tongue, which remained over his teeth.

“You interruptin’ my game, Jimmy?”

“Yes, Sir. I just read myself a book!”

“You read yourself a book?” A wide smile stretched from cheek to cheek, as Ray looked to his friends. They followed his laughter.

“Boy, what kind of book did you ‘read yourself?’”

“Some biography. It just came out. You mentioned you were lookin’ for a guy. The book’s ‘bout ‘im. He shares your last name, Sir!”

Jimmy handed the book over. It looked like it traveled a thousand miles. Perhaps it did.

Ray began to whistle to the tune that played on the radio: Grandma Plays the Numbers.

He looked up to Jimmy with wide eyes. His tongue remained over his teeth. He licked his lips.

“Say you lyin’ to me, what would I do to you?”

Ray got up from his seat.

“Please, just read the first page sir!”

“Are you tryin’ to get me excited for nothin’, Boy?”

The older man gave the younger man a very questioning look. His lips sucked under his teeth. He nodded a couple times.

“Just read it, Ray!”

The man opened the page. He then pulled his revolver from his pocket. He assumed Jimmy would shoot him while he read the page. After all, the man was out to get Ray.

He cleared his throat.

“The life of a mercenary is never easy. It’s never easy when you’re forced to protect people. It’s never easy when you’re forced to kill people. That was how it was for the reputable mercenary of the East Coast…”

Ray paused mid-sentence. He looked up to Jimmy. He had his hands towards his pockets. Ray cocked the gun.

“This is the story of a man who risked his life daily, from leading children, to guarding caravans, to shooting people for caps, and finally, to breeding horses back into the world.”

Ray had a wide smile. He looked to Jimmy after closing the cover of the book.

“I’mma keep this, Boy. You best be leavin’ if you know what’s good for you.”

“Just… read on, Sir!”

“I think I’ve read enough.”

Ray then aimed for Jimmy’s leg, piercing a bullet through. He turned around, and walked out of the bar. He walked all the way back to his home in Beecher’s Hope.

For a few days, Ray drank the words of the biography. He tried to desperately find the part that revealed his location.

The only thing set in stone was that he was near the ocean.

However, one clue prompted the man to find his answers elsewhere: The Capital Wasteland.

* * *

 

“May I help you, Sir?”

“Yes, you may most certainly will.”

Ray walked into The Muddy Rudder with a grin on his face. His beard was a bit longer and more grey. His brown locks were a mess. His clothing was musty and dirty. He took a seat at the stool, and asked for whatever was on tap.

Éclair gave the man a Gwinnett Stout. Ray chugged it down to the bartender’s surprise. He looked up to the portly man.

“I’m lookin’ for someone. Let’s just call him a ‘Lamplight Alumni.’”

Éclair looked to the revolver holstered to the man’s chest. He nodded.

“Any name in particular?”

Ray noticed that Éclair was looking at the gun. He pulled it from the holster and set it on the counter.

“Hint: in the 14th Century, a man restored independence in Scotland.”

Éclair shrugged.

“Not a fan of History? Here’s another hint: Genesis 37:4 - And when his brethren saw that their father loved him more than all his brethren, they hated him, and could not speak peaceably unto him. Do you know who they referred to, here?”

“Why, yes, Sir, they are speaking of Joseph.”

“Have you given your son a middle name?”

“It is Joseph, Sir.”

“So have I.”

Ray placed a worn book onto the counter. Éclair had definitely read it. He was one of the first who has.

“In this book reveals the life of a man who I need to speak with. I’ve spent most of my life looking for him, but he’s spent his life not knowing who the hell I am.”

* * *

 

It was confirmed, three horses were pregnant. The growth of the horse population was like a goldmine for MacCready and his family. In addition, they were smarter with their horses.

He didn’t notice a figure approach him. He was too busy tending to the newborn foal he had helped deliver.

The figure leaned up against the fence, looking on to the scene. MacCready turned his head to see the man who sported Western getup and graying hair.

“That’s a nice horse you got there!” called the man.

“Thanks. It’s a boy. He’ll grow up to be a fine Sire.”

Ray smiled. MacCready carried on to cleaning the guck off the foal.

A minute paused of awkward silence.

“Are you interested in buying one?” the rancher called from feet away.

Ray backed from the fence and looked down.

“No, Sir. I’m just here to talk.”

“If you need someone killed, go find someone else.”

“I’m not asking you to kill anyone.”

“Then you best be on your way.”

Ray put his tongue in front of his teeth. He looked left, before pulling out a polaroid from his pockets.

“This picture here, that was my wife, back when she was alive.”

He handed the photo to the rancher. He reluctantly glanced at it.

“You had a beautiful wife,” he answered, before handing the photo back.

Ray refused to take it.

“Take a look. Tell me what details you see in it.”

MacCready didn’t want to. He noticed the revolver holstered on the man’s chest. In defense, MacCready brought his golden revolver up towards the man.

“I understand that you don’t trust me,” he said softly.

“Yeah, I don’t.”

“Go on. Look.”

MacCready, with his gun still in the air, looked down into the photo. The woman had wide eyes. Her nose looked… Roman. It fell long from her forehead. Her lips were soft. Her chin was sharp.

“She had bright, brown hair.”

“Why the hell are you showing me this?” MacCready handed the polaroid back to the man in front of him. He seemed a little irritated. In addition, he was also a bit paranoid.

Ray looked down, before stuffing the picture back into his pocket. He remained paused for a good few seconds. His tongue still remained over his teeth on the right side of his mouth.

“You look just like your mother.”

* * *

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: I’m trying to fix things up to make this shit better, but in the meantime, my damn urge to keep typing up new shit is still in play. I would say I’m still rusty. I’m heckin’ rusty.**

* * *

 

**2303**

* * *

 

MacCready backed up. His gun was still cocked. His tongue was bit in between his teeth.

“What do you want with me?” he asked harshly.

Ray had both his hands up.

“I wanted to give you closure.”

“Pretty much a closure on my whole damn life, right?”

“It ain’t like that.”

“Then what is it?”

Ray remained calm.

“I just want to talk to you. I want you to know where you came from.”

“I already found out, thank you very much.”

“From a source that was too far for you to go into.”

Ray kept his hands up. He looked into his son’s eyes. His voice didn’t crack.

“Years ago, your Mother got pregnant with you. We were in Big Town. The place was either attacked by Super Mutants or slavers.”

“Like I didn’t hear that one before.”

“We know how that damn place was! That’s why we left you with the other Lamplighters!”

MacCready’s arm was getting tired.

“We were from Little Lamplight too. We left when we were fourteen instead of sixteen. We thought, ‘we’re adults, we can handle this on our own.’ We didn’t. Your Mom was pregnant with you, and we knew that if they found out they would have sold you for a large sum of money.”

MacCready lowered his gun.

“Our decision was best for you! If it weren’t for us giving you up, you would still be a slave right now.”

“What happened to you, then?” MacCready’s eyes still fixed onto Ray’s. His voice was shaky yet harsh.

“I was a slave for years. Lost count. I took the opportunity to escape back when some place called The Brothel was being blown to shreds.”

“And how did your wife die?”

“Malnutrition. She had just given birth to you and refused to tell them where you were. She was too weak.”

For some reason, MacCready felt that he should believe the man. One half of him screamed not to. The other half told him that it made sense.

“I grew up with your Mother. I can tell you from her with just a glance. Every night, she and I slept in the damn restrooms near the gift shop in the caverns.”

_Wait._

“That wasn’t in my book.”

“What?”

“About the restrooms.”

MacCready kept his eyes locked. He didn’t blink. His mouth dropped. His mind went blank. The disbelief was overwhelming.

* * *

 

“I’m telling you, Robbie, even if half my brain was gushed up from a bat, I’m not shitting you when I’m saying that you are a splitting image of this woman.”

Quinn handed the polaroid back to her husband. She had her arms crossed. She looked on to Ray. He smiled.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ray MacCready.”

Ray offered his hand out. When she let hers, he planted a kiss to the top.

“You have a beautiful wife, Son.”

“Second wife,” Quinn corrected.

“My first wife didn’t make it.”

“I’ve read about that. I’m sincerely sorry for your loss.”

From up the stairs descended a teenager and an infant. The newborn was crying.

“She won’t stop!” yelled Duncan. He was obviously frustrated.

“Give her to me,” answered the ginger. After taking the baby, the woman lightly bounced her up and down.

“Who are these young’ins?” Ray asked, looking towards the boy.

“Your grandkids,” Answered the rancher.

Duncan seemed extremely confused. He gave the old man before him a dirty look.

“Duncan, this is your grandfather, Ray.”

Ray smiled. He tipped his hat.

“You been protecting your family, Son?”

“I… guess?” Ray was surprised to hear that his grandson sounded just like the father.

He even looked just like his father. The boy just had darker hair.

Ray then looked to the baby in front of him. “And the book never mentioned this little booger!”

“Charlie.”

“Charlie?” Ray seemed impressed. The young child looked to him and then smiled. Her freckles sparkled with her blue eyes.

“Mind if I hold the girl?”

Quinn handed the baby to Ray.

Despite the old man seemed very hard-edged from the outside, the sudden change in his expression showed the rancher that he had a soft spot for babies. Perhaps it was because he had to give his own son up? He still felt distrust to the man who claimed that he was his father. On the other hand, deep inside, MacCready felt like his family got bigger.

* * *

 

Due to Duncan being upstairs with Charlie, Ray had to sleep on the couch. It was the most comfortable couch he had ever slept in. In fact, it wasn’t just him who said that: everyone who sat on it agreed. He noticed that it was painted and patched. With his fatigue overwhelming him, Ray suddenly fell asleep.

A few hours later, a sudden scream woke up the whole household. Ray heard a loud wave of footsteps travel the loft. Quinn and MacCready instantly ran up the stairs. Curious, Ray sheepishly followed.

“She won’t go back to sleep!” Duncan said, in a wave of worry. Quinn went downstairs to get a bottle. MacCready took the child, who continued to cry. “Come on, Rosebud, work with me!” he whispered. She wouldn’t quiet down.

“She’s teething. That’s why she’s crying.”

“Yes, Dad, we know that! I’ve read every parenting book out there and I’ve been changing her diapers the past few days!”

“You’ve been reading parenting books?” MacCready gave a dirty look to his son. He was suddenly embarrassed.

Quinn came up with a warm bottle. She attempted to feed Charlie, but the child refused. She kept on screaming.

“Let me try something,” Ray stepped in. MacCready handed the child to his father. The old man began to lightly bounce. He then began to sing. His voice was jumpy from the bouncing.

“And I was 'round when Jesus Christ…”

Charlie continued to cry.

“Had his moment of doubt and pain…”

She began to slowly calm down.

“Made damn sure that Pilate…”

She began to quiet down.

“Washed his hands and sealed his fate…”

Charlie slowly fell back asleep. He slowly brought her back to her crib, before descending her onto the mattress. She was out.

“I used to sing that to you when you were first born.”

MacCready was taken aback.

“… Somehow, I remember that…”

Duncan gave his father a very dumbfounded look.

“Guess that’s why I love Rock n’ Roll.”

Quinn followed Duncan out with a hand on his shoulder. MacCready allowed Ray to pass through. He slowly and slightly closed the door inward, allowing just a few inches open in case they couldn't hear her otherwise.

MacCready followed his father down the stairs.

“Why did I remember that?” the rancher asked his father.

Ray smiled.

“I’m just glad my son rubbed off some of my tastes.”

* * *

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Raymond sings to Charlie and had sung to MacCready when he was just born was "Sympathy for the Devil" from Rolling Stones.  
> Imagine Jeffrey Dean Morgan singing Rolling Stones to your kid...


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: I’m trying to fix things up to make this shit better, but in the meantime, my damn urge to keep typing up new shit is still in play. I would say I’m still rusty. I’m heckin’ rusty.**

* * *

 

**2303**

* * *

 

“Dad, is it alright if I talk to you?”

Duncan took a seat on the comfortable couch, next to his step-mother. She was busy playing with Charlie to really notice what the two were about to converse… or argue about.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Well, you know that tomorrow is my birthday, right?”

MacCready put the comic he was reading down onto the coffee table. He leaned forward.

“I just think that it’s time that I think about what to do with my life.”

The man looked down, then back up to his son.

“You’re not going to continue the family business and raise horses?”

“Why can’t Charlie do that?”

“Maybe she will.”

Duncan rubbed his eyes. He then scratched the small stubble on his chin.

“I want to be a cartographer.”

“You know that’s the most dangerous job in the Wasteland, right?”

Duncan nodded. He got more comfortable in the chair. He made sure to not hit Quinn’s head.

“I just think that despite how dangerous it is, it’ll be a step in the future for all of us. I’ll be making a difference.”

“We’re making a difference here. More settlements have bought horses. Look at Abernathy Farm! They’ve made a fortune doing what we do, and all we did was give them a couple horses.”

“And I get that, Dad. Horses will be the big form of transportation, just like they were centuries ago.”

“It’s a step forward.”

“And I’ll be making an even bigger step.”

MacCready tried so hard to not press it on his son to be a horse rancher. He understood that Duncan was tired of being stuck there. He rested his right elbow onto his knee, before using that arm to rub his forehead.

“You and Charlie are the last ones keeping our blood going. Charlie wasn’t even born from a human, so I guess you’d probably be the only one who is able.”

Duncan got angry.

“So, what, are you expecting me to pop babies for you, Dad?”

“I mean, you’ve read parenting books…”

“Because I know I was getting a little sister!”

Duncan got up from his seat. Charlie began to cry.

“I’m not expecting anything. I just don’t want you getting killed. I don’t want you to waste your life putting yourself at risk like both your Moms and I have done.”

“Lucy put herself at risk? She was the daughter of a caravan!”

“And she didn’t like it because of the risk!”

Charlie’s cries got louder. Quinn was becoming irritated from the noise. Her head began to hurt.

The argument got more and more heated, until Quinn couldn’t handle anymore.

“My fucking God you two!” The sudden scream wasn’t anything she had done since her injury. She began to hold Charlie tight as her head was in massive pain. MacCready instantly sprang to action to help her, while Duncan angrily went up into his room. Ray hadn’t been present during the fight, but heard it from outside, as he put the horses away.

* * *

 

In early morning, Duncan went out the window. He grabbed his horse, snuck through the guards, before hitting the road South. He had planned to take off and live his dream for awhile. During that time, he had acquired enough supplies to last wherever he went. It was his nineteenth birthday after all. He was more than adult enough to do as such.

“It’s alright Ringo. Just don’t get Paul going there.”

He strapped a saddle onto the grey Sire. He grabbed the bridle, before sending the horse to the Southern gate. He had waited for the Minuteman guard to turn his back before slowly opening the door. Duncan then ran out with the horse. After getting on, Duncan kicked onto Ringo, as the horse began to run south. They headed Southwest, towards the Capital Wasteland.

* * *

 

Years before, James, The Lone Wanderer, had solved a dispute at Arefu. Since then, the town grew into a large city. Duncan brought the horse, and, knowing of the offering of animals, he kept the sire close to him. He requested to rent a shed from the nice hotel assistant. He gave her the caps she demanded, and began to set up a sleeping spot.

Just then, a young woman came up to him. Her clothing definitely showed that she was trying too hard at what she was doing.

“Come with me, sir!”

She grabbed his hand. He was concerned about leaving the horse by himself.

“Wait, you don’t know what happens to the animals here!”

“I’m sure your horse’ll be fine, Handsome!”

She threw him in an unoccupied shed. She looked over to him. Duncan was extremely confused.

“Two hundred and fifty caps to start,” she said, seductively.

“Look, ma’am, you’re not a prostitute.”

She looked down at her clothes.

“Prostitutes don’t wear those kinds of clothes. Trust me, I’ve seen real ones in Nevada.”

The young woman pulled her hat off. She pulled the skirt to show fishnet stockings that were ripped.

“Dammit!” she called out. She made a seat onto the crate next to Duncan.

“I spent all that I had left on this outfit!”

He looked at her curiously. She had a Southern accent. He knew exactly where she was from.

“Have you come all the way up here from Texas?”

She looked at him in surprise.

“How do you know that?”

He shrugged.

“Your accent.”

The woman got up from the crate. She was frustrated.

“I came all the way up here to hire men, but was robbed of all my caps. I figured with what I had left, I would buy this outfit and use it to get what was stolen, or use my body for men to come help my family.”

“First off,” Duncan began.

“One, you do not want to be a prostitute. Ask my Step-Mom. She was a slave. And two, why does your family need help?”

He got up before bending over to her level. He looked the young woman in the eyes. She had fire-y amber eyes.

“Raiders.”

“Sounds easy enough for me. I’ll help you.”

“You will?”

“Under one condition.” Duncan helped her up.

“You show me any good areas around your home, and we visit the welcome centers of each state we go past.”

The woman looked extremely confused. She gave a very low “Okay,” allowing the “ay” to hang. She began to leave the shed.

“Wait!” he called, as he followed her out. She looked back at him.

“What is your name?”

The young woman smiled.

“Amber. Amber MacFarlane. You?”

“Duncan MacCready.”

* * *

 

"What the fuckity fuck?"

Quinn searched the house for her step-son. MacCready and Ray searched outside. Charlie was already crawling, and began to play with her toys on the quilted carpet.

MacCready ran back inside, tracking horse manure throughout the floor.

"What the fucking fuck-fuck, Robbie?"

"You might want to tone down your swearing before that becomes Charlie's first word!"

"I don't fucking care about her first word right now!"

"I get it! My son just happened to escape. What the hell, right?"

MacCready instantly grabbed his gear, tracking more manure around the room. Quinn, frustrated, approached the child and grabbed her before Charlie was able to play with the droppings.

Ray came in with socks. He noticed the footprints. Quinn looked to her father-in-law.

"Thank fuck we have a MacCready who knows how to keep this house clean!"

Illegible shouting came from the bedroom.

Quinn grabbed the baby holder that she had placed near the front door. She strapped it on her front side, before putting Charlie into it. She then put her backpack on. Quinn then proceeded to grab her bag of cannabis, before stashing it inside her pockets. She then grabbed her 10mm pistol. Her husband came out in full gear. He shook his head.

"Oh, no, no, no, no! There is no way in hell that you're going!"

"I'm fucking going whether you want me to or not!"

"You're not endangering yourself nor the baby! This is not a fucking debate!"

Ray attempted to stay out of the quarrel. However, he felt that he needed to have a say.

"Now, let's all calm down here," he said softly.

"We have no time, and son, trust me, even if I haven't known your wife long enough, I know she can handle herself. With the three of us, I'm sure the baby will be fine, and we'll snoop out Duncan. Don't patronize your wife."

MacCready looked to the freckled ginger with the beanie. She stuck her tongue out at him. Charlie saw and repeated her mother.

* * *

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amber MacFarlane is actually the descendant of Bonnie MacFarlane, and even looks like her.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: I’m trying to fix things up to make this shit better, but in the meantime, my damn urge to keep typing up new shit is still in play. I would say I’m still rusty. I’m heckin’ rusty.**

* * *

 

**2303**

* * *

 

Amber had seen horses, although she had never actually pet one. Her family insisted on buying some, but they were unfortunately too poor. When she attempted to stay planted on the back of Ringo.

With the horse, the trip went by a lot smoother. They got to Charlottesville without much confrontation. Upon entering a settlement, Ringo was placed besides other horses to socialize with.

Amber made way into the bar. Duncan was rather curious to know the details of the area. He pulled out his journal, before jotting down notes.

“This place is pretty damn impressive!” said Amber.

Duncan nodded. He continued into the bar, before the two made a seat at a booth. The headlights that glistened and accented the joint were of glued glass, which really popped with the place. It was a newly constructed place, and due to the lack of actual architects, it just looked like any other Wasteland shack. The walls were decorated with numerous traffic signs and animal heads.

“May I get you something, young’ins?” the waitress asked as she approached the two. Duncan gave Amber a long look in the eyes, confused of his decision.

“Whatever is on tap, thank you,” replied Amber.

“You too, Darling?”

“Yes ma’am.”

The waitress winked to Duncan as she approached the counter. He looked over to the blonde. Her eyes looked rather worried. Her lips were pursed in a thin line.

“So,” Duncan started before clearing his throat.

“Tell me a little more about yourself.”

“What’s there to tell?” Amber looked down onto the table. It was wood, cracked to make a splinter if those who sat there were not careful.

The young man felt unsatisfied over the answer. He continued to look at her. The angle of her face, the way it looked down to the cracked wood, made his heart skip a beat.

“I’m a farm girl. Lived there all m’life.”

She looked up to Duncan. Her eyes changed to a little subtler expression.

“What about you? You haven’t said much.”

Duncan looked to the waitress, who was bringing the drinks over. He then turned back to Amber.

“My Mom died when I was a baby. My Dad was a mercenary. He remarried, and trained my Step-Mom.”

“Do you get along with her?”

He gave her a perplexed look.

“Well, I know sometimes when parents remarry, the kids don’t like their step-parents.”

He nodded.

“I love my Step-Mom. Sometimes,” he gave a small pause, “I sometimes wish she was my real Mom.”

Amber looked confused. He could see it.

“I don’t remember my real Mom. Sometimes I see Quinn and just don’t think twice that she’s my mother. Lucy… well, all I have is a picture of her. I didn’t have any emotional connection with her. She just seems… well,” Duncan sighed.

“ _Nonexistent._ ”

Amber nodded in understanding.

“So, are your parents full-fledged assassins or just mercenaries?”

“Oh, they aren’t anymore.”

Amber began to look frustrated.

“They stopped after Quinn…” His throat felt closed.

“She got a really bad injury. She has brain damage.”

The blonde’s expressions said it all. She felt sincere empathy.

“I’m so sorry to hear.”

“She’s tough. Mom still has a lot of kick to her. After that, we became horse ranchers. My Step-Mom and Dad decided they wanted my baby sister.”

“You have a baby sister? How old is she?” Amber seemed extremely excited.

“Four months.”

Her face lit up.

“What does she look like?”

“Well… a lot like Quinn. She has ginger hair like her, blue eyes like my Dad, freckles…”

“Your Mom has ginger hair and freckles?”

“Hazel eyes, too.”

“What about your Dad?”

Duncan looked down at his hands. He held them out. Suddenly, he pointed to himself.

“I’m a mirror image of my Dad. He just has lighter hair.”

Amber was very mesmerized.

“I also have a grandpa.”

“We all have grandpas!”

“No, like, my living grandpa. He looks nothing like my Dad though. He has grey-ish, brown hair, tired looking eyes, they’re blue nonetheless, and he has some grey facial hair. He looks very dangerous.”

“So, you kind of have a big family like I do.”

He shrugged.

“I wouldn’t say big. Just bigger than others.”

Amber didn’t care that her jacket got caught onto the cracked wood. She rested her left forearm, before placing her right arm snug, allowing her forearm to reach the back of her neck. She smiled.

* * *

 

It was home, but it wasn’t home. It was her home in D.C. It was spotless. It felt like the war never happened.

Quinn looked down at her clothes. Her jeans were stained with blood and dirt. Her tank top had a dreamcatcher on it. Her vest was black, but didn’t look like it. Her hair was long.

She grew it long after the incident. She wanted it long enough to allow the shaved area from her stitches to blend with the rest of her hair. However, over time, she stopped caring about its length.

Quinn checked the kitchen table. She looked over to the figure who was vacuuming the floor. It was loud. The figure had long, light brown hair. She was donned in a nice buttoned shirt and capris.

“Mom?”

Quinn approached the figure. She placed a hand on her shoulder. The woman turned off the vacuum before looking at her.

“Karlie, how long since it’s been since you came home?”

“A long time, Mom.”

“How long? You never called!”

Quinn couldn’t control the words that came out of her mouth. Nonetheless, she was confused.

“Robbie and I were in Sanctuary. We haven’t had time.”

“Where is he? I would like to meet him.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Quinn thought to herself. She finally gained control of her body enough to approach the kitchen sink. She looked outside. The world was… green. The trees shadowed what they could. The air smelled of fresh flowers.

It was prewar.

But she was the same.

“Mom, what’s going on?” Quinn asked, when she turned around. Suddenly, the room was empty. The ginger came up to the entrance of the hall. She cautiously moved down, keeping her hand firm onto her holster.

“Mom?”

She then walked into her bedroom. It was the same as it was before. There were packed boxes waiting to be emptied. She approached her bed, which was covered in polaroids of the people she’s met during their moving spree. The walls were decorated with a dreamcatcher, like the one on her shirt, a fox poster, butterflies she had bought from taxidermists and places on her trips…

It felt like home.

But it wasn’t home.

Quinn looked down to her bed, before noticing something different about the pictures.

They were pictures she and MacCready had taken over the years. They were pictures of her and Duncan. Some had her and Piper, Cait, Nat, and one of her and Charlie.

“Mom?” She asked, worriedly.

Quinn cautiously walked out of the room. The world felt quiet and peaceful, but to her, it was a nightmare.

When she walked into the living area, she spotted a figure at the dining table. He was continuing his favorite hobby of maintaining his model ship.

“Dad?” she asked. He looked the exact same. His hair was grey-ish ginger, messy. His face shared features that she had, such as the piggy nose and freckles. His beard was white.

Quinn took a seat across from her father.

“Karlie, where’s your husband?” he asked.

Again, she couldn’t control her replies.

“Back at home in Boston.”

“Why hasn’t he come?”

“Someone has to take care of the horses.”

A small “Hmph,” escaped Bernie’s lips. He didn’t look up at her.

“I didn’t get to see Duncan.”

“He’s grown up now, Dad.”

“And Charlie?”

“Almost five months. She’s teething.”

“I would like to see her.”

Quinn suddenly felt tears. They began to uncontrollably escape from her eyes. She then felt that she could control her words. She felt a pressure in her heart. She had a lump in her throat.

“I would like to wish this was real, Dad.”

* * *

* * *

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: I’m trying to fix things up to make this shit better, but in the meantime, my damn urge to keep typing up new shit is still in play. I would say I’m still rusty. I’m heckin’ rusty.**

* * *

 

**2303**

* * *

 

Suddenly, the world felt dark. Quinn sat up. She turned to her sleeping husband, who was cuddled with the infant. Quinn looked around, hoping danger wasn’t around. She looked down to her Pip-Boy. After activating it, the bright light blinded her. After checking out the time, she sighed, before turning it down and laying back. Quinn looked over to her husband and daughter. She caressed Charlie, before going back to sleep.

* * *

 

“What the fuck?” Quinn asked slowly. She was sitting in the same chair, directly across from her father. She looked around, before looking back to him.

“I am totally dreaming,” she said to herself.

Quinn got up from the chair, before slowly making her way towards the backyard.

“Karlie, I want to ask you a few questions,” Bernie shouted from behind her.

Quinn took her seat again.

“I only got to meet Robert once. The least we can do is request he comes by more often.”

_I don’t think that’s physically impossible… I know it’s not._

Bernie continued on to his ship. He looked up to her, with a smile.

“Clearly he’s part of the family. The least we could have is dinner together.”

Quinn turned her head, before spotting her mother, cooking. Quinn could smell steak.

Her mother made her way to the table, before placing two plates of brahmin next to her and her father. She went back to the counter, before grabbing other dinner essentials.

“Mom?” Quinn shakily asked. She could tell between Brahmin meat and cow meat. The taste was the same, but the look was… different. Same species, radiation doing the work. The world got so much weirder.

Quinn got up from the table. She turned to walk to her room. Once she opened the door, she saw something very unexpected.

Her husband gave her a hug.

“Where’s Bernie?” MacCready asked. When Quinn looked behind him, next to the bed was a bassinet. Inside was Charlie.

“In the kitchen,” Quinn replied, not realizing what she said. She was too focused on trying to adjust what she was seeing. She entered the room, before bending over to see Charlie. She was sleeping soundly.

“Robbie?” Quinn called, before turning her head. Suddenly, laughter echoed into her room. Quinn proceeded through to the kitchen, where Duncan had joined. The table was longer. There was a chair at the opposite end of the table, strictly for her.

Quinn took a seat. She felt like hours had passed as the family talked and talked. The world looked normal. The sun slowly came to a fall. Everything felt extremely bizarre. The dinner tasted real. The way Bernie and MacCready joked felt real. Only Quinn knew that it wasn’t.

Quinn spotted Charlie in the highchair. She smiled at her daughter. The infant proceeded to play with her food. The radio in the background played Billie Holiday, as the family conversed. Quinn felt the conversations melt into the background, to a mumble. Her attention focused to the radio.

She suddenly heard an explosion.

Quinn instantly sprang to action. She ran and grabbed Charlie, before turning around to notice that the family continued to converse without any notice. She quickly looked out the windows to see a gust of wind approach the home at a high speed. Before Quinn was able to run to a safe spot with Charlie, the explosion had-

Quinn suddenly jumped, awakened by the sound of explosions. Charlie was strapped to MacCready’s back, crying. Earmuffs were strapped to her head to muffle the sound of firearms. MacCready and Ray held cover next to the ginger. She quickly grabbed her gun.

“You’re really difficult to get up, you know that?” MacCready barked.

Quinn pulled an object from her pouch. She pulled the ring off, before tossing the grenade into the fire. The pillars in the nearby building fell apart, crushing whoever survived.

“That should be the last of them,” Ray said, after looking around.

Charlie still cried.

“Take her!” MacCready held his arms out as Quinn pulled the straps from them. She wrapped the infant around her torso. She kept her pistol close to her. After the quick firefight, she was finally able to analyze the nightmare she had.

* * *

 

Duncan and Amber had made it to Tennessee. The city of Memphis was all torn buildings, painted in graffiti. It wasn’t anything that Duncan had seen before.

The settlement inside Memphis was rather large. It was so large that there were maps given out once the two made it through the gates. There were a few districts, all owned by independent owners who seemed to have agreed upon a goal.  The lights glistened with the sunset. The people made their way through the two without trouble.

They rented a hotel room. Once they got inside, Amber instantly took her jacket off.  “I call dibs on the shower!” she called, after unbuckling her jeans. Duncan sat on the bed, admiring the woman in the T-shirt. She closed the stall.

Duncan pulled out his gun, counting all the ammunition. He then unbuckled his pockets and belts from his ensemble, examining the items that needed use. He made a seat onto the queen-sized bed. Once Amber came out, she noticed his shirt was unbuttoned.

“What’s up with the… shirt?”

He looked down.

“A few buttons are broke.”

Amber shook her head. She made a come-hither gesture with her hands. Duncan reluctantly removed the garment from his skin, before handing it to the blonde.

“Do you have a needle?”

He handed her the stitching needle from the first aid kit he constructed. She asked for the buttons. He reached down before pulling his pant leg up. Underneath was a holster that held a bag of Mutkush and buttons.

“What’s that green stuff?”

“Marijuana. My Mom and Dad smoke it too.”

Amber shook her head.

“Never seen it in my parts.”

He pulled the components from the bag, before searching for a paper to roll it up with. Amber sat into the bed, before stitching into the shirt.

“You know, Duncan,” Amber began.

He listened as she talked.

“My family’s full of ghouls. They would tell me about the old days.”

“Quinn’s prewar too. She would tell us stuff too. Where are you getting at?”

Amber scoffed.

“I’m just trying to make conversation!”

The young man approached the blonde before handing her a glass of wine. She took a sip.

“Maybe I just want to drink.”

He took the bottle from her. Duncan took a sip. He crawled into the bed next to her. It was the first night that the two would sleep in the same bed, as there was no other piece of furniture in the trash-filled hotel room. Amber held her hand out for another sip from the bottle. She pulled the bun from her hair, as it fell straight onto the pillow. It was long. Her amber eyes looked over to the young man, before she took her next sip and handed it over.

“We have a long ways to go, you know.”

“And?”

She turned herself over. Duncan placed the bottle onto the floor. He settled on his back, allowing his arms to fold over his torso. Amber kept herself lying back from him. She felt her heart skip a beat.

The room got so quiet that the two could hear the commotion from the night. Amber turned herself to Duncan’s direction, only to find out that he fell asleep. She smiled, before slowly moving her hand to his messy hair. She caressed it. She got up before grabbing the shirt again. She continued to sew the buttons back onto the shirt.

When morning hit, Duncan awakened to a pair of fire-y eyes meeting his. She showed the shirt to him, with a smile on her face. He smiled back, before putting it on.

“You know,” she said as he fit his arms through the sleeves, “You’re pretty handsome.”

He gave her a very perplexed look.

* * *

 

“Yeah, we’ve been looking for a young guy who has a grey horse.”

Quinn held Charlie close. The men asked around any passerby, who didn’t even know what a horse was. They regretted not bringing a polaroid.

“At this point he could be anywhere.”

Ray made his way into a bar, keeping his hand onto his chest at the holster. Quinn followed her husband into a hotel. MacCready kept his pistol in his right hand. The ginger quickly grabbed her husband’s left hand. He approached the clerk.

“May I help you, sir?”

“We’re looking for a kid. He looks like me but with dark hair.”

She looked up to the man, and nodded.

“Yeah, I saw him. He’s got a pretty blond girl with him, right?”

The duo looked at each other.

“They took off a few hours ago South. Heard the girl talking about Texas.”

MacCready thanked her. He escorted his wife and infant out, before discovering Ray on his horse, with the other two held with a bridle in each of his hands. MacCready hopped on his, before the older man tossed the bridle to him. Quinn looked down at Charlie before they trotted out of Memphis.

* * *

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: I’m trying to fix things up to make this shit better, but in the meantime, my damn urge to keep typing up new shit is still in play. I would say I’m still rusty. I’m heckin’ rusty.**

* * *

 

**2303**

* * *

 

Duncan and Amber slowly rode down to Arkansas. They rode down the highway, their eyes darting through the treeless wastelands. It was extremely empty. Radiation didn’t affect the area, so it was rather confusing.

“Do you think we have a few underground creatures around?” Duncan asked worriedly.

Amber squeezed him tighter as they cautiously rode Ringo. When they reached the border to Louisiana, they decided to camp.

Duncan handed Amber a piece of molerat meat they cut up. When they made their trip to Nuka World, MacCready taught Duncan how to make a small fire by digging a spot in the ground. He sat next to Amber, who made a spot on a burned stump.

“Is that the way you took up to the Capital Wasteland? The way we came down?”

Amber swallowed the meat.

“Nope.”

He looked down. It had been a month since he met Amber. It felt like he had known her since forever. She stuck into his head.

Duncan had never seen anyone in a romantic fashion. It concerned MacCready, especially noting that he wanted grandchildren. To know that Duncan just didn’t grow up interested in women had the man wondering if he just had no sexual or romantic feelings whatsoever. Everyone looked to Duncan as if he was asexual. The truth however, was that Duncan was just disinterested in the women he grew up around. He had his thoughts into the books he read, the stories he wrote, his dream making maps and the farm. The women he grew up with were definitely interested. In fact, Duncan was a handsome man to some. He was practically Gaston, although he had no Belle to win over, nor did he care.

When he first met Amber, he was just confused. He didn’t know why she would try to escort him. He had no idea why she tried so hard. There were plenty of other men around that were around their age. However, as they traveled, he began to see that perhaps Amber wasn’t so one-dimensional as the girls who took a liking to him. She was a rancher gal like he was. She had a large family who expected her to add to it. He had a small family that expected him to add. She shared his love for books. The chemistry that Amber had landed the young man weak to the knees.

He looked at her portrait. Her face softened with the light that the fire illuminated. One thing that set him off from her was that he was a calm person. He definitely was not that way growing up, but he became modest, relaxed, collected. Amber, on the other hand, _was_ fire. She was on fire. Her irises blended with the dancing inferno before them. Her temper matched that. She was feisty, full of fury.

Maybe that was why he respected her.

“It’s a little cold out,” she noted, before throwing the stick into the flames. Duncan had already made his tent. It was constructed of the skins of the molerats that they had hunted in the day. Rain began to settle in, before Amber made her way into said tent, cuddling up into her sleeping bag.

“I really hate rain!” she called out in frustration.

_She was fire._

* * *

 

“Hey, Mom?” Quinn was back in that world. She was laying on the living room sofa, placed next to Bernie’s chair. He sat in it, reading a newspaper. Quinn slowly sat up, before inspecting the headlines.

“Atom Bomb Devastates World,” was what was placed in big letters on the front page.

Quinn, perplexed, looked behind her to see Duncan with her mother. The ginger approached the two, being extremely confused.

“Hey, Mom,” Duncan said softly.

“Karlie! Sweetie, could you go fetch your husband? I thought you two were going on a hunt today?”

Quinn, confused, slowly made her way down the hallway into her room. MacCready was laying on the bed, sound asleep. Next to him was the bassinet, with Charlie sleeping soundly as well.

“Robbie?” Quinn softly said, before softly nudging her husband. He turned over to her, adjusting his eyes.

“Let me guess, your Dad is coming with us and he doesn’t have the time of day to wait?”

Quinn paused for a second. That was how Bernie was. He was impatient.

Just like her husband.

“Pretty much.”

The rancher slowly got up from his bed. After a quick stretch, he used his arm to scoop Quinn into a small hug. He rubbed her head.

“How are you feeling, hon?”

She didn’t say a word.

Quinn turned around to MacCready, who was making his way down the hallway. She moved over to Charlie, before pulling the infant from the bassinet. She worked her way back to the hallway to meet the family. The ginger then placed the baby on the floor, in front of a few baby toys.

“So, MacCready,” Quinn’s mother began, “When will Ray be coming?”

“Oh, I don’t know. He’s probably off playing baseball.”

Quinn was confused. Why was Ray coming? What significance did he have to meet with them?

Suddenly, the bell rang from the door. She proceeded to open it, being greeted by her father-in-law.

“Quinn!” Ray said excitedly, before pulling her into a hug. When he came in, he introduced himself to Bernie.

“I just want to say thank you for all you’ve done,” the old man said softly to her father.

He pulled a flower from his brown jacket, placing it into Bernie’s.

Before she knew it, Quinn was in the woods of Sanctuary, near Vault 111. Surrounding her was Ray, Bernie, MacCready, Duncan, and… Nate. Why was Nate there? What significance did he have in the dream?

“Ray, Nate saved me in the war. He’s a good man.”

_But Ray knows Nate!_

The group proceeded past the Vault, although Nate had magically disappeared. Suddenly, Quinn began to lose control of her body again.

“So, uh, Dad, what do you think of Robbie?” Maybe it was a question she had always wanted to ask. Although, they had met a short period of time. Bernie died in front of MacCready.

“I think it’s good you turned yourself around for the horses, Son,” Bernie replied. He looked to MacCready. He then held an object out of his hand.

_It was the wooden toy soldier._

“It was nice of you to give this to me.”

Quinn suddenly saw the world glitch, as fragments of the skies, the ground, everything began to shave away. She kept looking at her father, as she was hot on his tracks. He walked into the black abyss, as she followed behind.

“Dad, why am I in this dream?” She asked in a very demanding fashion. He kept walking, with the toy soldier in his hand.

“Dad!”

He suddenly stopped. He turned around to meet her face-to-face.

Tears began to well up in her eyes. Her lips began to shiver. Her hazel irises were angry but also sad.

“I’ve had these damn dreams for a long-ass time! Just fucking tell me Dad. Be fucking honest with me!”

He didn’t say a word. He didn’t blink. He just looked straight at her.

“Are you trying to actually communicate with me? Or is this all fake? I need to fucking know!”

He didn’t say a word. There was a long pause.

“Please Dad,” she begged, softly. “Just fucking tell me!”

“Karlie!”

Quinn was suddenly awakened by her husband softly nudging her.

“Hey, Babe, are you alright?”

She slowly sat up, before wiping the tears from her eyes. She looked into her husband’s blue eyes, before sniffing. She then darted her vision to Ray, who slept while cuddled with Charlie.

“You’re having those dreams again, aren’t you?”

Quinn was extremely confused.

“How did you know I’m having weird dreams?”

He shrugged. He rolled his eyes to the side, shaking his head. His lips pursed to a thin line.

“You’ve been talking in your sleep lately.”

* * *

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: I’m trying to fix things up to make this shit better, but in the meantime, my damn urge to keep typing up new shit is still in play. I would say I’m still rusty. I’m heckin’ rusty.**

* * *

 

**2303**

* * *

 

Duncan and Amber made it to Louisiana. They argued about New Orleans. Duncan wanted to see the thriving city, which consisted of historical structure and artifacts. On the other hand, Amber just wanted to get back to helping her family. She was impatient, worried that the raiders have come back. They gave them a deadline: have enough crops by the end of the season, or unspeakable horror would commence.

Duncan opened up a small abandoned shack just outside the town. It was infested with Radroaches. After clearing the pests, the two made camp, mounting Ringo to a post just outside. They had interesting talk. Duncan explained more of his backstory, especially the time he was terribly sick. He didn’t remember much, but he explained he was willing to not remember. He didn’t tell her of how he was confined to a bed, oh no, he told her of his father, the brave mercenary, and his step-mother, the confused and scared apprentice, who secured Prevent at Medtek.

“What was the illness that you suffered from?”

“Well, we didn’t find out until after we went to the Mojave. A friend of ours named Eudinae found some records of this sickness called The New Plague. She’s an interesting woman from The New California Republic.”

“I heard of them. Wanted to join for awhile.”

Duncan inched closer to Amber. He held his jacket out, before wrapping it around her shivering figure.

“What happens when you have it?”

“Not many survive, that’s for sure. You get these blue boils.”

The blond looked into the young man’s eyes. She couldn’t imagine that he was so terribly sick in his life. He looked absolutely normal.

The light of the small fire that illuminated the room softened Duncan’s features. Amber noticed that his stubble was growing out. He had that 5-o’clock stubble. His scars glistened with the fire. She grew curious.

“I’m a little curious about your face.” she didn’t even hear herself say that.

“Hm?”

“What happened to it?”

Duncan paused for a moment.

“Raider attack.”

Amber chuckled.

"What?"

"I was sixteen when it happened. About three years ago."

"So what happened?"

"My Dad rescued me. He always did. He knew a way to exploit them and helped me."

Amber paused for a moment. She then turned back to the young man.

“Are you like him?”

Duncan shook his head. He pulled a bottle of wine from his pack.

“Not one bit. I used to be, but I guess I realized that I didn’t want to have the burden he has.”

Amber was puzzled.

“My Dad’s killed a lot of people in cold blood. I saw him kill. Just shot them dead, didn’t think twice. I know, we have to survive, but I mean, I haven’t seen someone… well, be so cold about it as he has.”

“You said he was a mercenary.”

“His business has nothing to do with who he was.”

He paused for a moment. Amber saw the goosebumps that speckled from his skin. She shared his jacket back.

“The worst thing is I know he’s like that because he wants to send a message. He wants people to stay away from us. Mom isn’t much like him, but then again, she’s just as intimidating when she wants to be. Dad, well, he’s just hard all the time.”

She felt for him. Knowing that Duncan had seen many things he shouldn’t have, she grew to admire that he just wanted to be a good person.

“I don’t want to be like my Mom and Dad. They only help themselves… I want to help others.”

Duncan pulled his journal from his bag. He handed it to Amber.

“I’ve recorded every moment of our lives. You can see when I’ve seen Dad at his worst, and at his best.”

She skimmed the pages. A lot of them were splattered in ink. Others, she wondered if it was blood. The leather exterior felt soothing to her fingers. She closed the book, before noticing a small bookmark hang out. He took the item back, before opening it to an empty page.

Amber sighed.

“Look, Duncan, I know that you want to help others.”

He looked into the fire-y eyes that illuminated with the inferno before them.

“Please, just help me first.”

Her face was extremely close to his. Her eyes looked deep into his. She wanted to come closer. Duncan caught on, to which he placed the journal down. He wrapped the jacket back around her small figure, before he pulled her into an embrace.

“I’m sorry for being selfish about New Orleans.”

She didn’t mind that his heart sped faster than hers. She slid her arms up from his, allowing them to wrap around his neck. Duncan felt like his heart would leap out of his chest. Amber broke the embrace before looking into his eyes. The fire in her had him shivering. She opened her mouth, nervous, ready to say something, but she looked down. Instead, she turned her face. He grew curious. Duncan moved his face towards hers, almost resting his chin on her shoulders.

“What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. She then got up, ready to leave the shed.

“Amber!”

The blond looked back at the young man. He looked worried.

“What are we doing?”

“What?” His mouth muttered, not realizing he said what he thought.

“Why did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Hug me?”

“Is it not alright to hug people?” His phrase wasn’t sarcastic.

Amber had never come into contact with anyone other than her family, that was, until she relocated to look for mercenaries. The socialization and attachment she grew to Duncan was entirely new to her.

“I’m sorry,” she shook her hand out, before holding herself. Her hand moved to her nose, before she rubbed it.

“Sorry about what?”

Duncan got up from his spot, ready to approach her. He had no idea what was going to happen. He placed his hand on her shoulder, concerned. Amber tried so hard to not do what she wanted to do.

“I’m sorry.” She said again. He was very perplexed.

Amber moved away before she did what she thought would have been crazy. She sat down on the ground. Duncan couldn’t understand what was happening. She was being very erratic.

She sighed.

“I asked you to come help me take out raiders. I figured you would just take them out and just go on home.”

“Okay?” The young man approached the blond. He sat down.

“The problem is,” she began. She paused for a moment. She couldn’t find the right words.

“The problem is…?” Duncan followed, his voice trailing with the last word.

“I-I don’t want you to leave.” She looked back at the young man. She let out a shaky breath, trying to control the tears. She was worried.

“You talk about your family, like you’re going to go home.”

Duncan looked down. He then placed his hand on her shoulder, before sliding it to the other side. He pulled her into another hug.

“I’m not going to leave.”

“Are you sure?”

He looked at her, his face solemn and serious. Amber suddenly jumped when he moved in and planted a peck at her cheek.

She placed her hand where his lips once were. Her mouth dropped. She looked back at him, surprised. Perhaps he was the one who was erratic.

Suddenly, the blond had no idea what she had just done. She moved from her spot, swiftly, then planted her lips against his. Amber wrapped her arms to the same spot she was before, wrapped around his neck. He returned without any hesitation, filling the embrace with his arms wrapped around the middle of her back. The moment felt like forever. Suddenly, the blond trailed her fingers into the young man’s hair, squeezing, sending signals down his spine.

When they broke apart, they looked at each other, surprised. Amber moved her arms behind her head, before she pulled her hair down. It was long, the locks were straight. She then began to unzip her jacket. It was getting warm in the abandoned shack.

It got even warmer.

The button on Duncan’s shirt broke off when he removed the fabric from his skin. He was small, but had some muscle. Amber loved that. He moved over the young woman, kissing her again, as she unbuckled her belt. She then began to pull her white T-shirt up, before Duncan began to help. He then helped her undress below, his hands sliding to her pelvic bone, wrapping his fingers to her hips. She was a small figure, pronounced by her bone structure. Duncan then began to slide his right hand behind her back, before feeling the bra strap. The buckles weren’t able to come undone with one hand.

“Wait!”

Amber then moved her arms back, while he tried to hold her above the ground. She then unclipped her bra, before tossing it near the fire. She was relieved to see it didn’t get thrown in.

He then continued, as she helped unbuckle his belt. His pinstripe trousers became undone, as they began to slide down to his knees. He continued to kiss her, moving downwards, from the collarbone, down in between her breasts. They weren’t too small, but they were nowhere near big. They complemented her figure. Duncan then cupped his hand over her right, before moving his lips near her left. He began to lick her erected nipple, satisfied to hear her moan. Amber moved her hands to his hair, tugging at it again. He continued, slowly moving downward. His lips met her navel. When he planted soft pecks to her abdomen, she ran her fingers through his hair. She had no idea what was happening, but she loved it.

Duncan wrapped his toned arms around her hips, before spreading her legs outward. She looked down to see his face was nearing her bits. She had no idea what he was going to do. It was something very new to her, something she had never heard of or even thought of. When she saw and felt his tongue slide from bottom to her tip, a euphoric feeling of stars and electricity sparked through her spine, allowing her to shakily moan and arch her head back. He loved her moans. He continued onwards, exploring, looking for the best spot to strike, hoping to let Amber shiver in satisfaction, hoping Duncan would alleviate that urge she had felt in her system. Having never felt a tongue against her clit, Amber began to shake over and over again, with each lick, squeezing his hair. She tried so hard to not shriek, but she felt a buildup that had her panting and wanting more. Her toes curled. Suddenly, she saw stars, her eyes feeling like fireworks, her body jolting with the satisfying electric that was illuminating her orgasm. Duncan toned down on his technique, to calm down with her. When he finished, he looked up at the blond, as she huffed. He moved upwards, kissing her collarbone again. She felt his member slide over where he just was, which was something she had never felt before.

“What is that?” she asked, still huffing. She looked down to see he was erect.

“Uh, that’s my dick?” he replied, embarrassed.

“A dick?” Perhaps the young woman had no idea what it was.

“Had your parents told you about sex?”

“This is sex?” Amber sat up, confused.

Before Duncan began to explain, she suddenly pressed a finger on his lip.

“Continue what you’re doing, then explain to me later,” she said, still shaky from her orgasm.

He nodded, before grabbing his shaft. She wanted to look down to see what he was about to do, until he moved inward, planting a kiss to her cheek. He inserted the tip, which surprised her. Since Amber was well lubricated, it didn’t hurt. He inserted even further, before moving his forehead to touch hers.

She pulled him in to peck his lips with hers, before he began to thrust. Duncan started slow, soon accelerating the speed of his thrusts, before he took full advantage of the pace he wanted. Amber didn’t mind this; in fact, she loved it. He looked down to her moving figure, bouncing with his speed, admiring the view. He inched inwards, planting his left hand onto her waist, before moving his right hand to her face. He cupped her cheek with it, thrusting harder and harder. His forehead met hers. His grunts and pants had her knees weak, her huffs and moans allowed him to further a climax. After a few finishing thrusts, he came, to which she had felt.

Duncan moved his face down into Amber’s neck, leaving himself inside her. Their out-of-rhythm moans echoed throughout the abandoned shack, almost like a song… a round. When Duncan looked into Amber’s eyes, he saw that her fire had grown stronger, almost like a beautiful dance. Amber felt the cold prickle her skin, as she felt that Duncan’s sweat had trickled down to her skin. After a brief awkward moment, Duncan began to laugh. That left Amber very confused, but she loved his wide smile.

“What’s wrong?”

Duncan continued to laugh, which became contagious. Amber began to laugh with him.

“I don’t know why we’re laughing!”

He removed himself from her body, before wrapping his arms around her. After a brief moment of letting his sigh of laughter trail, he tried to prevent more from escaping his lungs.

“You had no idea what sex was.”

Amber’s face turned redder than it already was.

“What?”

He pulled his tongue under his upper molars, before looking down at her.

“Don’t worry. It was my first time, too.”

The blond pulled her jacket from the pile of clothing, before covering herself.

“You mean, you never had sex before?”

“Well,” Duncan smiled again.

“Looks like we punched each other’s V-card.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: I’m trying to fix things up to make this shit better, but in the meantime, my damn urge to keep typing up new shit is still in play. I would say I’m still rusty. I’m heckin’ rusty.**

* * *

 

**2303**

* * *

 

“God Dammit Robbie!”

“Your voice went up!”

MacCready couldn’t contain his laughter as his wife held onto the baby’s hand. Charlie was already walking, but it was unsafe for her to do it on her own in the wasteland. She was laughing with her Dad. His body was going weak. Ray got a hit to the balls from a rogue device that lay dormant on a table.

MacCready picked it up. It looked like pliers, but for something round.

“Robbie, it’s called a Nutcracker!”

The rancher lost it. His body jiggled and his head went light. Ray was still on the ground, his face beet red.

“Laugh at your old Man, will you?” His voice gritted between his teeth.

“Robbie, I admit, [chuckle] it’s funny, but will you calm down?”

“Nutcracker!” MacCready began to bang his hands against the table. He bent down to his knees. His sides hurt.

He sighed.

“I haven’t laughed like that in a long time.”

Quinn looked around.

“Yeah, it sounded like you were killing someone.”

“Don’t know but that fucking nutcracker killed me!” Ray called from the ground.

Charlie was still laughing. She had no idea what was going on. She thought the silly faces that her grandfather made were hilarious.

* * *

 

“Karlie, do you want to talk about your dreams?”

“Hm?” Quinn felt her husbands hand slide up to hers. He wrapped his arms around her shoulder, before resting his chin. His nose cuddled against her skin. She loved the texture of it. She loved his stubble scratch against her neck. She turned her face inwards to his, as he kissed her cheek.

“Not really.”

“The less you talk, the worse it gets.”

Quinn pursed the right side of her lips, her eyebrows went up. She blinked a couple of times. The rancher didn’t feel it. He continued to hold her tight. She felt his lips curve to a smile.

“Charlie’s getting big.”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

He laughed.

Charlie was next to them, her bright blue eyes looking to her father. She held her hands out. The little girl got up from her spot, before running into her mother’s arms. She began to mutter words over and over again. All were illegible.

“Let me guess, her first word’s gonna be ‘fuck,’ right?”

“Well, she has been around Mommy quite a bit.”

MacCready chuckled at his wife’s statement. He spotted his father take a seat across from them. He began to cook the skinned squirrels they had hunted.

“She seems to be equally attached to both of you from what I see.”

He began to roast the first squirrel.

“I’m sure her first word’s going to be ‘Shit.’”

“I go for ‘Fuck,’” Quinn replied.

“I’d say ‘Daddy.’” MacCready was very insisting of that.

Quinn and Ray both looked at MacCready, before cracking up.

Charlie began to fall asleep in her mother’s arms. Her long messy hair was blocking her face. Her freckles glistened with the fire. Quinn began to pull her hair out of her face.

“I have to say, though, she’s perfect,” the ginger said softly.

* * *

 

Amber woke up with Duncan’s arms wrapped around her. She turned over to spot his handsome face facing hers. His nose began to touch hers. His snores were soft and low. The light glistened through the cracks and holes in the walls. The blond got up, before clipping her bra back on. She turned over to the sleeping young man, before stroking his dark hair.

“It’s time to get up, Duncan.”

Amber got up from her spot. She put her white T-shirt over her torso. She then pulled her pants from the ground, struggling to put them on. Duncan rubbed his eyes before yawning.

The two proceeded to get breakfast from the town near. When they entered an eating area, they took a seat outside. Before deciding to go to the counter for their order, Duncan broke the awkward silence.

“Well, what did you think about last night?”

The blond looked down. She blushed.

She didn’t say anything.

“Amber?” His voice sounded hurt.

“I never experienced anything like that.” She sounded reassuring, but awkward.

Duncan nodded, before making his way to the bar. He asked for Brahmin steak, before bringing a big roasted piece out for him and Amber. He placed it onto the table. Giving the blond a knife, they dug in.

“So, will you explain to me what it really is or?”

Duncan looked up at her. The fire in her eyes still danced. He swallowed his steak, before taking a sip of the wine to wash it down. He handed the bottle to her, before she did the same.

* * *

 

Quinn strapped Charlie to her back. With the child growing quickly, it was too much to keep her in the front. The child messed with her mother’s hair. MacCready began to get concerned.

“Maybe I should hold her from now on?”

Quinn looked puzzled.

“If she gets too excited or mad and hits you, well-“

Quinn handed her husband his rifle. She seemed annoyed.

“Karlie!”

“I can carry my own damn baby!”

Charlie looked back at her Dad, before giving a pout.

“See, she wants me!”

The ginger turned to her husband, rather irritated. She fell back, her straps sliding off her shoulders. She held Charlie up so that she wouldn’t run. MacCready then slid the straps under his arms, before pulling the toddler up to his back.

“I think when we get back, we need to let Curie know that she’s growing way too fast.”

The rancher nodded to his wife.

* * *

 

Duncan and Amber rode onwards. Ringo trotted onto the road with confidence, his stance being chipper than usual. It confused the two. After reaching San Antonio, they had spotted that it was a ghost town.

“Careful,” Amber stated, wary. “Raiders live here.”

They looked over to Ringo, then at the free road that looked a bit too empty.

“I got an idea,” Amber then said with a grin.

“We high-tail it through the road.”

Duncan nodded. He was nervous, but was still in agreement.

They led Ringo back a bit, before giving a shaky breath. Duncan then kicked Ringo, causing the horse to begin to run. The speed picked up. Raiders began to poke their heads from their fortress, getting ready to come out and grab the two. The horse sped on, through the traps, through the territory. The gang began to chase, hoping to catch the two. They didn’t.

Duncan and Amber both celebrated, cheering and whistling. “That was easy!” the young man called, satisfied of the result.

They made it to a Vault, before realizing where they were. Duncan was suddenly surprised.

“Wait a second…” he said softly.

“… My parents were here!”

“Hm?” Amber stayed on Ringo.

“My parents were here! My Dad was impaled, and my Mom carried him here!”

Amber rode Ringo over to the entrance of the cave. Duncan spotted the sign that advertised the Vault.

* * *

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To keep the accents of the MacFarlane Family thick, you might want to read this out loud. They have a thick Southern Accent.

**Author's Note: I’m trying to fix things up to make this shit better, but in the meantime, my damn urge to keep typing up new shit is still in play. I would say I’m still rusty. I’m heckin’ rusty.**

* * *

 

**2303**

* * *

 

Duncan scribbled over and over again. His writing was fast-paced. Amber thought his hand was going to break. The young man began to write over and over again, fast as possible.

“Duncan, what are you doing?”

“Writing about this place!”

Amber sat next to him. She couldn’t read his handwriting. The young man kept writing, his concentration on full control to the book. She huffed, before leaning onto his shoulder.

* * *

 

The trio and baby made sure to not make the mistake they made back in 2290. The Raiders were too much, so an alternate route went into play. Ray led them through a shortcut to the other side of the town. No long after, the horses approached a familiar cave.

Quinn spotted a spot next to the doors. It looked like someone had sat there.

“Duncan was here!”

The horses came up to the spot, before Quinn bent forward. She inspected the area.

“I think Duncan might be going to Beecher’s Hope,” she said softly.

“How do you know?”

“Beecher’s Hope?” Ray then asked.

“Hell, I live there!”

The duo looked up at the older man.

“We have to get on over!”

* * *

 

Duncan and Amber finally made it to the ranch. Ringo ended up posted near what looked like a Sheriff’s office. It was deteriorated, almost empty. The two approached the steps. Amber sighed.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know if my parents will let you in.”

They came up to the door. Amber hesitated to knock. Duncan did so instead.

They slowly opened. Inside was what looked like a ghoul.

“Amba? Oh, Amba!”

The ghoul suddenly gave the young woman a hug.

“Amba’s home, everyone!”

All that followed was a young man, who looked about Duncan’s age. Behind him was a few more ghouls, and two older looking people.

“Mom, Dad! Allen!”

The immediate family instantly embraced the young woman.

Her father was a large, portly man. He had grey, slick hair, with a large beard. Her mother, on the other hand, was petite, just like her. She had Amber's long blond hair, and a pale, almost dead complexion. Allen, on the other hand, was in between, with short blond hair, but a small stomach to hang.

“Where were you? We were worried sick!”

The older woman looked up to Duncan. He was rather shy around the family. He gave a small nod.

“Mom, Dad, everyone, this is Duncan MacCready.”

They all looked at the young man. The mother came up and inspected him.

“MacCready. Are you related to a Ray?”

He instantly jerked back.

“How do you know my Grandpa?”

* * *

 

“Since Ray left, we been in trouble wi’ some Raiders. They been stealin’ our crops n’ threatenin’ us.”

The oldest ghoul, by the name of Patrick, had made seat next to Duncan, explaining what a gentleman his grandfather is. The mother, named Brenda, served dinner which was corn and potatoes.

“No one’s heard from Ray after he took a book from the gang leaduh. Them boys are nutin’ but trouble. They’s threaten to shoot poor Ray, n’ I was afraid they had.”

“No, ‘Pa is up in the Commonwealth with my Mom, Dad, and my baby sister.”

“Oh, Baby sister? How old is she?” Brenda’s mother instantly became interested. Her wrinkles complemented her wide grin.

“She should be about five to six months now.”

The mother smiled. She definitely liked Duncan. The brother, on the other hand, didn’t seem too fond of the MacCready grandson.

“So, uh, Duncan,” Allen began,

“Where did you meet my sista?”

The young man and farmgirl looked at each other.

“Capital Wasteland.”

“You went all the way to ‘DC, Darlin’?” Victor asked. He was Amber’s father.

Amber sank in her chair.

“She just wanted someone to help with the raiders. I came down to help.”

“We don’t take help to young boys lookin’ to hook with my sister!”

Allen gave Duncan a very intimidating look.

“Allen! You shut ‘yer mouth! He’s a MacCready! He’s got the Eye!” Brenda pointed to her right eye.

“Oh, the Eye! That mytholo-gi-cal horseshit!”

Allen turned back to Duncan.

“That sight thing you got, do you?”

“Uh, Pardon?”

“Do you have it? That Eye?” Allen’s eyes were filled with fire, like Amber’s. They were just… angry. Amber’s eyes showed curiosity… kindness.

Duncan looked down.

“Yeah,” he replied, solemnly.

“He lyin’,” Allen barked.

“Allen! That’s enough!” Brenda got up from her chair, before collecting the empty plates.

“But Mom! He come to our house, eat our food, sayin’ he got that family shit in his blood!”

“And he does, Al!” Brenda made it to Duncan’s plate.

“Just ‘cos he the same age as you don’ mean y’all have to have a ween-measurin’ contest. You hear me?”

“Mom!”

Brenda made it out of the kitchen with the plates. Her eyes were fixed to Allen, angrily. Amber looked to Duncan.

“Could you help her for me?”

The young man obliged. He nodded, before getting out of his chair and making it into the kitchen.

Duncan entered the kitchen. The area was clean, albeit it had its typical rust from the bombs. The home was a nice Victorian style. The wainscoting was coming apart on the walls, the wallpaper torn already. Duncan walked up to Brenda, offering his aid.

“Thank you very kindly, Son.”

“Son?”

“You’s a youngin’ still.”

“I’m nineteen, Madame.”

Brenda smiled.

“You have manners like your grandfather. What about your father?”

Duncan shook his head. He dried a plate.

“My Dad… he’s not a very good person.”

“But he polite?”

Duncan nodded.

“Depends to who.”

Brenda grunted.

“Hm. Makes sense. This world’s a dark place. I’m sure out o’ ‘vryone here, you’s ‘outa know that.”

Duncan smiled. His smile wasn’t a show of understanding. It was solemn.

“Are you okay, Darlin’?”

The young man dried the next plate.

“Amber came up to find mercenaries to help you. She posed as a working girl.”

“Working Girl? I ‘Outa-“

“I talked her out of it. She hadn’t slept with a man.”

“She better not ‘ve. My girl’s ‘outa marry a rancher boy.”

Duncan nodded.

“Is your family’s ranchers?”

“Pardon?”

“Do they grow food?”

Duncan shook his head.

“They breed horses.”

“Horses? That where the beautiful creature ousside come from?”

“Yes, ma’am. My father wants me to continue it.”

Brenda looked to Duncan. She smiled.

“I’m sure your father juss wants wus’ best ‘fer you.”

“But I want to help people. I want to make maps, so that it’s safer for people to travel.”

“Who’s to say you can’ do that too?”

Duncan had never thought about it.

She smiled again. Brenda then placed her hand on Duncan’s shoulder.

“I know you’s traveled with my baby for a long time. I sees it. She’s got that fire in her eyes.”

_That fire._

“Allen, my boy, he angry. The fire he has is going to burst. Amber, the fire she has is love. It’s dancing when you’re around.”

The young man looked to the mother. His eyes were widened. His mouth dropped.

She smiled again.

“I knows you sees it too.”

* * *

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: I’m trying to fix things up to make this shit better, but in the meantime, my damn urge to keep typing up new shit is still in play. I would say I’m still rusty. I’m heckin’ rusty.**

* * *

 

**2303**

* * *

 

Duncan woke up to the sound of Ringo in distress. In the distance he heard yells, whether angry or not was unknown to him. The young man suddenly got up, before making his way out the door. He grabbed his binoculars, before looking out into the distance.

The gang was marching towards them, guns present.

He began to panic, running into the house.

“They’re here!” Duncan yelled.

Amber suddenly ran down the stairs, her shotgun in hand. Her father followed behind. Brenda came in from the kitchen with her pistol equipped.

“Okay, so Raiders usually carry pipe pistols. They hurt, but most of the time, they aren’t deadly. Make sure your armor is intact, okay?”

Allen easily grew frustrated with Duncan’s directions.

Amber’s father walked out, confronting the gang. A young man approached him.

“Who’s this shithead?”

Duncan instantly placed his arm in front of Victor. He moved towards the leader.

“I’m asking you to stop pestering this family.”

“Or else?”

Duncan gave him a very distinct look of threat. The leader laughed.

“Oh, listen boys! This shit’s gonna kill us all!”

Duncan pulled his pistol from his holster. He held out to the group.

He then licked his lips.

_Ray licked his lips._

“You best be leaving if you know what’s good for you.”

Jimmy remained confused. He pursed his lips. The gang leader stepped forward to Duncan, his look still seemingly intimidating.

Duncan didn’t move.

Instead, he put his tongue under the top of his teeth.

“You Ray’s boy?”

“Grandson.”

Jimmy laughed.

“Didn’t know the man was married.”

“And I didn’t know that you were never in the Commonwealth. His son was one of the best mercs out there.”

Jimmy began to laugh again.

“Was?”

Duncan suddenly began to concentrate. He pulled his gun out, taking out three men in a blink of an eye.

A firefight started. Victor retreated back onto the porch, shooting wherever he could. Duncan retreated inside the rubble of the sheriff’s office. He drew a shot to another gang leader, killing him instantly.

Jimmy shot a flare up. Clearly reinforcements were on their way.

Amber ran out the door, past her father, down the steps.

“Amber!” Victor called. Behind her was Allen.

“Al!”

The blond ran over to Duncan, panting rigorously.

“That was risky,” he said sarcastically.

“Someone needs to back you up. Saw that handiwork you got.”

Amber reloaded her shotgun. Jimmy ended up shooting Ringo. The horse, in great pain, had stretched and seized on the ground, causing Duncan to have to shoot him again to put him out of his misery. The sight was traumatizing.

Victor had run out of ammunition. Amber was beginning to panic at the amount. Duncan’s head began to hurt. His nose began to bleed.

“I can’t be taking anymore out with this!” he called.

Amber instantly began to rub his back, until they miraculously dodged a bullet from the other side. Amber freaked out, shooting in that general direction. Allen had followed as well. The reinforcements were almost too much. Duncan kept towards the people coming from the East.

Suddenly, shots came from different directions. Each gang member began to fall. The shots were consistent, fast. Duncan grabbed his binoculars, before seeing the figure with a minigun.

“Grandpa?”

Ray approached from the destroyed train tracks. He noticed Jimmy. From the other direction, Amber noticed two people making their way over.

“Is that your Mom and Dad?”

Duncan got up, seeing the duo inch towards them. MacCready then turned around, before letting Charlie off from his back. The little girl came up to her brother.

He began to sob.

“Charlie!”

He picked her up, hugging her tight. Amber smiled.

Jimmy began to run, before Ray knocked him over.

“Told you one of these days I’d kill you and your shitheads for messin’ with this family!”

Allen came out to meet Ray. The gang leader got up.

“Now it’s fucking real.”

Ray pulled a knife from his pocket. He then kicked Jimmy over. Allen then held the gang leader up.

Ray brought the knife to his head, a smile curving onto his face. As he was ready to slit Jimmy’s throat…

The sound of a gunshot had everyone turning their heads.

A surviving gang member had shot Allen. The young man dropped Jimmy, before falling over. MacCready grabbed his golden revolver, before putting a bullet into the gang member’s head.

Ray then shot Jimmy.

Amber screamed, which was then echoed by Brenda. The family instantly ran up to Allen, whose body was staining red. Brenda held him in her arms. Victor was next to him. Ray stood there motionless, as tears welled up in his eyes.

“Shit, we don’t have Stimpacks!” Quinn yelled, as she searched frantically in each of their bags. She panicked, pulling Charlie from Duncan. Refusing to let the toddler see the dying man, Quinn pulled a bag out from her pockets, before lighting a joint.

MacCready continued to look. He heard Allen breathing heavily. Sobs were echoing throughout the farm.

“We don’t have fucking stimpacks!”

Duncan nudged Ray. He was still motionless. Duncan then searched his grandfather, then concluding there was nothing. Amber was on her knees, looking on to her brother. He coughed up blood, before he stopped breathing.

Amber panicked, crying, trying to revive her brother. Duncan pulled her away, holding her, as she fell back into his arms, sobbing.

Ray looked on to Allen, tears in his eyes. All he saw was red. Quinn looked behind, smoking her marijuana, stressed. MacCready began to put a hand on his father’s shoulder, rubbing it. Charlie didn’t see the body, but she saw her grandfather. Her first word escaped her lips.

“Papa!”

* * *

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: I’m trying to fix things up to make this shit better, but in the meantime, my damn urge to keep typing up new shit is still in play. I would say I’m still rusty. I’m heckin’ rusty.**

* * *

 

**2303**

* * *

 

Ray dug the grave. The cemetery behind the house was much bigger. Over time, it grew, but with just another person six feet under, it was filled from fence to fence. MacCready helped dig, with a lit joint in his mouth. Inside, Brenda looked to Charlie to help grieve. The toddler had no idea what happened, and remained as naïve as ever. The old woman found comfort in the toddler. Surrounded by her was her husband, parents, and grandparents.

Upstairs, Duncan held onto Amber.

“You told us Pipe Pistols won’t kill us!”

He sighed.

“They weren’t using Pipe Pistols… raiders usually do. Instead, they had guns that could pierce armor.”

Amber was dealing with anger. The fire in her eyes turned to her brother’s rage. She pounded the bed, sobbing. Duncan held her tight, digging his nose into her hair. She returned the hug, her mind jaded and weary.

As Ray finished the grave, MacCready helped him up. He handed his father a Gwinnett.

“The boy…” Ray began in huffs, “He looked up to me. I helped him here.”

“Sounds like you helped this family a lot.”

“You betcha I did.”

Ray sucked up a bit of the beer.

“I watched those two grow. Coincidence that Duncan found the girl.”

“Ray?” MacCready placed a hand on his father’s shoulder.

“That gang was after that family.”

Ray nodded.

“I helped keep vermin out of here. I guess when I found you, they came back.”

A wave of guilt ate at MacCready. He was angry. Sure, the gang was all gone at that point, but still… they killed someone’s child. They killed a boy.

“Then you shouldn’t have found me.”

MacCready moved to the body in the sheet. He called for Ray to pick Allen up. They threw it into the grave, before Ray grabbed the shovel.

“You have nothing to do with this,” Ray then called, before MacCready went to meet with his wife and girl.

“Yeah I do,” he answered.

“I got that boy killed.”

* * *

 

For a week, the MacCready family stayed with the MacFarlanes. They celebrated Allen’s life, but his death was a mass amount of guilt onto the MacCready men. Ray felt guilty for leaving. MacCready felt that Ray’s journey caused Allen’s death. Duncan misinformed them of weaponry, in addition to waltzing on the family unexpectedly.

Amber didn’t blame any of them. She conversed with each of them, reminding them that it wasn’t their fault. They saw the fire in her eyes. Ray mentioned it to MacCready about the color.

“They all have fire. You can tell who they are in that.”

Amber and Duncan made a spot on the porch one night. They discussed about what to do since the gang was eradicated. Duncan looked to her.

“We could give you some horses to start off.”

“We could use some Brahmin too.”

“I don’t know where you can get that,” Duncan chuckled. Amber handed him a beer as they looked out into the dark silhouette that was pronounced with the light of the stars. Amber had a small pause.

“So, I suppose you’ll be going back to Boston then?”

He then looked to the young woman. His face was stern.

She saw the fire warm his icy blue eyes. He grabbed her hand.

“I’m staying here.”

Amber’s mouth dropped.

“Wait, what?”

“I promised I would.”

Amber shook her head. She pulled her hand away.

“You can’t!”

“Your family asked me to already.”

Amber looked down. She then took a peek through the window. No one was in the living area.

“You have your family to take care of!”

Duncan shook his head.

“You can see that they know how to take care of themselves.”

The blond was immediately confused.

“You need help. And I’m here to help people.”

* * *

 

The MacCready family packed their belongings. They managed to find a working car just outside the farm, to which, they left the horses with.

“Are you sure?” Brenda asked, concerned.

“Don’t worry about it!” Quinn answered with a smile. Her hand was gripped tight with Charlie’s.

“After all, I don’t think a bouncy horse ride is good for a baby.”

Brenda smiled. She grabbed the ginger’s hand.

Ray handed Patrick a piece of paper. The ghouls all smiled, before hugging the older man.

“Those there are directions on how to take care of these horses. Keep them safe.”

The MacFarlane family smiled. Ray then looked to Duncan.

“You keep these people in line, you hear me?”

The young man smiled.

“Always.”

Ray saw the contagious fire in Duncan’s eyes. He could tell that the young man was _home._

MacCready came up to his son. He had tears welled up in his eyes. They looked at each other for a second.

Suddenly, the rancher pulled his son into a long hug.

“All this time, I’ve done all I could for you, and I traveled thousands of miles for you.”

Duncan felt guilt.

MacCready broke the hug, before sighing.

“And you came out the best you could. You’re doing what I asked.”

The young man nodded to his father.

“Hey, Dad, you taught me everything I need to know.”

The rancher patted his son’s shoulder.

“Damn straight!”

The men had a crying laugh. It was soft and sweet.

Quinn came up to her husband, with Charlie held out.

“Mom,” Duncan said softly, crying.

“Promise that you’ll write and send pictures!” Quinn pointed, tears in her eyes.

The young man chuckled.

“I will.”

He then came up to Charlie. She hugged her big brother.

“Be a good girl for Mom and Dad, alright?” He asked solemnly. The toddler smiled.

She pressed her fingers onto his nose. She then inched forward and kissed his forehead.

“Duncan!” She called. She gave a very innocent smile.

_It was a difficult decision for Duncan, but he promised them that they would be in Boston soon._

* * *

 


End file.
